Chương 3
Then she remembered the letter.
Her mother’s handwriting on the envelope.
The closed hospital room.
She gripped the journal tighter.
Julian picked up Claire’s letter.
“I want to make a copy of this.”
“No.”
“It’s addressed to me.”
“The journal is mine.”
“The letter was inside it.”
“That doesn’t make the letter yours?”
“It literally has my name on it.”
Nora considered that.
“That’s annoyingly reasonable.”
Thomas looked away.
Julian almost smiled again.
Then Adrian said, “We need counsel before anyone copies anything.”
Nora turned.
He had regained control.
That was worse than when he had looked frightened.
She studied him.
“What are you afraid is in there?”
Adrian’s expression barely shifted.
“I’m concerned about protecting everyone involved.”
“My mother’s dead. You can stop protecting her.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
Julian walked around the table.
For one second Nora thought he was coming toward her.
He passed her instead and stopped in front of Adrian.
They were similar in ways she had not noticed from photographs. Same dark eyes. Same straight nose. But Julian carried stillness like a decision, while Adrian’s stillness now looked constructed.
Julian lowered his voice.
“How long?”
Adrian swallowed.
“Since Claire told us.”
“Us?”
Charles said, “Enough.”
Julian turned.
“No.”
Charles stood slowly.
Age appeared in the effort despite the tailored suit and the expensive doctor who, according to a magazine article Nora had read, traveled with him to Switzerland.
“I made the decision,” Charles said.
Adrian’s head turned toward him.
That surprised everyone.
Charles continued.
“I wrote the line. Claire came to me. I told Adrian. I instructed him to handle it.”
Julian stared at his father.
“Handle it.”
Charles’s eyes moved toward Nora and away again.
“I believed you were making a mistake.”
“A child is not a mistake.”
“No. But you were thirty-four. The company was exposed. Your engagement had ended publicly six weeks earlier. Claire worked for one of our contractors. There would have been questions about power, money, motive.”
Nora hated how neatly he listed the reasons.
Julian said, “So you decided I didn’t get to know.”
“I decided you needed six months without another crisis.”
“Thirteen years is a long six months.”
Something changed on Charles’s face.
He looked toward Adrian.
Adrian stared back.
Nora saw it.
So did Thomas.
Julian did not turn immediately.
When he did, the room seemed colder.
“What happened after six months?”
Adrian said nothing.
Charles said, “That is what I would also like to know.”
Adrian whispered, “Dad.”
Charles’s voice sharpened.
“You told me she left New York.”
“She did.”
“You told me she wanted no contact.”
“She said—”
“You told me she had married.”
Adrian’s silence lasted too long.
Nora felt something inside her settle.
Not relief.
A shape.
Until that moment, the story had been a pile of pieces her mother had left her.
Now one piece had locked into another.
Julian looked at Nora.
“Did Claire ever marry?”
“No.”
“Was there anyone else?”
Nora thought of the men who had passed briefly through their apartment over the years. A teacher named Daniel who cooked terrible pasta. A divorced architect who laughed too loudly. A quiet man from Claire’s office who brought flowers one Christmas and disappeared by February.
“Not really.”
Julian closed his eyes for half a second.
When he opened them, he looked at Adrian.
“We’re done for tonight.”
Adrian’s shoulders loosened.
Julian added, “Thomas, have security take Adrian’s building credentials.”
The looseness disappeared.
“Julian.”
“Until I understand what happened.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious.”
“You’re going to suspend me because a thirteen-year-old walked into dinner carrying a stolen journal?”
Nora stiffened.
Julian’s face changed.
Thomas stepped between them before anyone moved.
Adrian seemed to realize what he had said.
He looked at Nora.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” she said.
That was easier too.
She knew what to do with people who meant things.
She did not know what to do with people trying to become her father.
Laura Bennett arrived forty minutes later furious enough to make two security officers look apologetic.
She came through the salon doors wearing black leggings, a raincoat over a nursing uniform, and one sneaker untied.
She was fifty-three, round-faced, tired, and usually incapable of entering a room without apologizing for something.
That night she apologized for nothing.
“Nora.”
“I’m okay.”
“That is not the point.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Probably not.”
Laura stopped in front of her.
For a second Nora thought she might yell.
Instead Laura pulled her into a hug.
Nora lasted three seconds before trying to step back.
Laura held on.
“You disappear into Manhattan three days after your mother dies, and I’m allowed five seconds.”
Nora stopped resisting.
Laura smelled like hospital soap and peppermint gum.
After five seconds, she released her.
Then she turned toward Julian Vale.
Nora had never seen a billionaire look uncertain before.
It improved him.
“You’re Julian.”
“Yes.”
Laura looked him up and down.
“Well.”
Nora waited.
Nothing followed.
Julian said, “I’m sorry about Claire.”
Laura’s face tightened.
“Thank you.”
It was the first truly ordinary thing anyone had said in the room.
Julian explained that he wanted an expedited DNA test performed by an independent laboratory, with Laura’s consent.
Laura listened.
Then she said, “We’ll use the lab Thomas already found.”
Julian nodded.
“No problem.”
“And nobody takes Nora anywhere without me.”
“Agreed.”
“And nobody talks to the press.”
“I have no intention of doing that.”
Laura glanced toward Charles.
“Wasn’t talking to you.”
Charles actually looked offended.
Nora loved Laura a little more.
They left shortly after midnight.
Thomas walked them to the elevator.
Nora carried Volume II inside her backpack.
Julian kept Claire’s letter after Laura read it and agreed he could have it. Thomas made two certified copies while Nora watched.
Adrian had left through another exit.
Charles remained in the dining salon.
May you like
As the elevator doors began closing, Nora saw Julian still standing beside the table.
Volume I lay in front of him.
